April 2025 Poetry Madness Part Four April 19 to April 25

audio clip

You can find my prior April Poems here:

April 2025 Poetry Madness April 13 to April 18 Poems

2025 April Poetry Madness Part Two April 6 to April 12

April 2025 Poetry Madness Part One

April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems
April Poetry Madness April 21 to APril 25 Poems
April 2024 Poetry Madness April 15 to 20 Poems
April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14
April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

PSH April 2023 Poems
April 20-30 2023 Poems Do Drop In
April 2023 Poetry Dew Drop In April 11-15
Writers Digest April 2023 Poems

April 2023 Dew Drop In Poems
April 30th, 2022 Poems
April 29th Poems
April 26th and April 27th, 2022 Poems
April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems
April 22, 2022 Poems
April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems

April 22, 2022 Poems
April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems</a >

April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems
April 16 and 17, 2022 Poems

Enjoy and stay safe, everyone

Beginning Poems 

Day 19

NaPoWrMo

Deportation Blues Bop

Every day, we hear the news

People being pulled off the street

Accused of being illegal alien gang members

Sometimes just for having a tattoo

Then they disappear to god knows where.

They could come for you next

But people think it is not my problem

I am not an illegal alien

I was born in the us

They cannot come for me

But in the logic of authoritarian regimes

Everyone becomes  a  suspect

And you or your family can be detained

They could come for you next

But, I still have hope

That enough people  will say

Enough, no mas

Stand up and end this madness

But perhaps, it is game over already

They could come for you next

April 19  The Bop. Three stanzas and three refrains, developed by Afa Michael Weaver.

Here are the basic rules for The Bop:

• 3 stanzas
• Each stanza is followed by a refrain
• First stanza is 6 lines long and presents a problem
• Second stanza is 8 lines long and explores or expands the problem
• Third stanza is 6 lines long and either presents a solution or documents the failed attempt to resolve the problem

2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 19

Coffee Pot Blues

Coffee

Pot blues

Pot hates coffee

Morning

Many demands

Too much coffee

Pot

Screams out

Stop drinking me

Humans

Don’t care

Brew more coffee

Coffee

Pot complies

Must make coffee

Coffee

Must obey

His Buddha nature

Whew! Let’s keep those pens, pencils, keyboards, touchscreens, notes apps, etc., poeming away.

For today’s prompt, write a persona poem. A persona poem is when you write in the voice of another person, real or imaginary. So maybe a sonnet in the voice of Mickey Mouse, or a stance narrated by the Wright Brothers (yes, both of them), or a haiku from the perspective of Amelia Earhart. And yes, inanimate objects are fair game too (if you want to craft some free verse in the voice of a toothbrush). Have at it!

——————————————————————————————————

Hay(na)ku is a very simple poetic form, and it’s also one of the newest. It was apparently created in 2003 by poet Eileen Tabios.

Hay(na)ku is a 3-line poem with one word in the first line, two words in the second, and three in the third. There are no restrictions beyond this.

A really basic example:

Boys
chase girls
on the playground.

There are already some variations of this new poetic form. For instance, a reverse hay(na)ku has lines of three, two, and one word(s) for lines one, two, and three, respectively. Also, multiple hay(na)ku can be chained together to form longer poems.

PSH April 19, 2025

Really, Whom Am I, really ?

Really, whom am I, really?

Everyone knows who we are

Lies we tell ourselves

Lies that define us

All that we are

This poetry writing prompt submitted by Ellen Sander:

1. Spell your surname backwards
2. Line the letters up vertically
3. Write a poem in which each line starts with a word that begins with the letter on each line.

Dew Drop Inn

April 19—Airplane

Worst airplane ride ever

The worst plane trip

I ever took

Was in 2025

I took a British Air flight

To Dhaka

We were stuck on the tarmac

For four hours.

There was a disconnect

Between the number of passengers

And the checked baggage.

Rather than deplaning us

And towing the plane

To a safe distance

Just in case there was a bomb

On board.

They kept us in the plane

We left five hours late.

The airplane’s air conditioning failed

The toilets backed up

Leaving only two out of six toilets

Functioning.

They ran out of food

Out of booze too.

We got to Bangkok

Where we deplaned

For five hours.

Before we had to reboard

The plane

Which was

delayed arriving

In Dhaka

Due to heavy fog

At the airport,

We managed to get word

To the Embassy

That we were arriving

Two days later

Then originally scheduled!

All in all

The worst flight

Ever!

Day 20

NaPoWriMo

What is Hip?

Do you think that you know?

it is such a trip.

better take it slow, Joe.

why not let it all rip?

 April 20 Bob and Wheel. Quintain form that’s often part of a longer poem.

• Quintain (or five-line) stanza or poem
• Rhyme scheme of abba
• First line of two to three syllables
• Lines two through five have six syllables per line

Original Lyrics repeated

What Is Hip Lyrics

Tower of Power

[Verse 1]

So ya wanna dump out yo’ trick bag
Ease on in a hip thang
But you ain’t exactly sure what is hip
So you started to let your hair grow
Spent big bucks on your wardrobe
Somehow, ya know there’s much more to the trip

[Chorus]
What is hip?
Tell me, tell me, if you think you know
What is hip?
If you’re hip
The question, “Will it show?”
You’re into a hip trip
Maybe hipper than hip
What is hip?
[Verse 2]

You became a part of a new breed
Been smoking’ only the best weed
Hangin’ out with the so-called “Hippie set.”

Seen in all the right places
Seen with just the right faces
You should be satisfied, but it ain’t quite right

[Chorus]
What is hip?
Tell me, tell me, if you think you know
What is hip?
If you’re hip
The question, “Will it show?”
You’re into a hip trip
Maybe hipper than hip
What is hip?

[Break]
Come on

[Refrain]
Hipness is. What it is
Hipness is. What it is
Hipness is. What it is
Sometimes hipness is, what it ain’t

what is Hip Tower of Power

Note: you probably have guessed my favorite band by now….

Happy Saturday, everyone. We hope you’re ready to write some poems!

Today’s featured participant is Sara Hardy, who took me back to my 1980s childhood with her driving-and -singing poem for Day Eighteen.

Our resource for the day is a bit goofy. It’s the Gallery of Strange Museums. Some of the museums here don’t strike me as all that strange – more very local or specific. But the Wingnut Museum is definitely a bit odd, as is the World’s Largest Spool of Thread (less a museum than a roadside attraction), while the Hattiesburg Pocket Museum is a testament to the fact that people can – and do – make their own fun.

And now for our daily prompt – optional as always. This one is inspired by Brigit Pegeen Kelly’s poem “Song.”

The word “tragedy” comes from the Greek for “goat song.” The song in Kelly’s poem is quite literally a goat song. The poem also describes a tragedy, both in the modern sense of an awful event, and the ancient dramatic sense of a play in which someone does something terrible, and the play’s action shows the consequences.

The poem has a timeless, could-have-happened-anywhere/any when quality that I associate with blues and folk ballads – including murder ballads (a subgenre of song dealing with a gruesome crime, first arising from broadsheet ballads sold at English executions, and which later came to America in forms like “The Knoxville Girl” and then morphed their way into country music).

Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem that tells a story in the style of a blues song or ballad. One way into this prompt may be to use it to retell a family tragedy or story, or to retell a crime or tragic event that occurred in your hometown.

What with time’s way of time marching inexorably on, we suppose it was inevitable. We’ve come to the 2/3-way point of Na/GloPoWriMo.

Our featured participant today is Anna Endom, whose tragedy/ballad poem for Day Nineteen is less tragic (thankfully) than it could be.

Today’s resource is the online galleries of the Tate Modern, where there’s oodles to discover, including a sculpture that sort of makes us think of the Loch Ness Monster holding a beach ball, a swirly bit of op/pop art reminiscent of either candy or a mustache, and this interesting exploration of five different artist-made books.

And now, here’s today’s (optional) prompt. Below, you’ll find Theodore Roethke’s poem, “In Evening Air.”

Theodore Roethke’s In Evening Air

1

A dark theme keeps me here,
Though summer blazes in the vireo’s eye.
Who would be half possessed
By his own nakedness?
Waking’s my care–
I’ll make a broken music, or I’ll die.

2

Ye littles, lie more close!
Make me, O Lord, a last, a simple thing
Time cannot overwhelm.
Once I transcended time:
A bud broke to a rose,
And I rose from a last diminishing.

3

I look down the far light
And I behold the dark side of a tree
Far down a billowing plain,
And when I look again,
It’s lost upon the night–
Night I embrace, a dear proximity.

4

I stand by a low fire
Counting the wisps of flame, and I watch how
Light shifts upon the wall.
I bid stillness be still.
I see, in evening air,
How slowly dark comes down on what we do.

So, let’s face it: this poem is weird. The rhythm is odd, the rhymes are too, and the language is strangely prophetic and not at all “conversational.” Despite – or maybe because – of this, it has a hypnotic quality, as if it were all inevitable. Your challenge is, with this poem in mind, to write a poem informed by musical phrasing or melody, which employs some form of sound play (rhyme, meter, assonance, alliteration). One way to approach this is to think of a song you know and then basically write new lyrics that fit the original song’s rhythm/phrasing.

2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 20

Rest Poem

Today I need to take a rest

Today I need to take a rest
I am just getting so tired
Of watching the constant chaos
Every time I turn on the news.
——————————————————————————–
I need to scream, enough, no más! *
Today I need to take a rest
Watching the news gives me the blues
I have to turn off the damn news.
————————————————————————————
There’s just too much bad news and gloom
Too many talking heads spinning lies
Today I need to take a rest
They keep telling alternative facts.
I must tune out, turning it all off
—————————————————————————————-
I sit down and do my yoga
Listening to sweet chill music
Today I need to take a rest.

*Spanish for more “no mas” is a common expression meaning no more, or even we are out of something

Today, I tried my hand at a new (to me) French poetic form named the quatern that incorporates a refrain like in the villanelle and eight-syllable lines like in the kyrielle. Since I’m a big fan of refrains, I think this poetic form rocks.

Quatern Poetic Form Rules

1. This poem has 16 lines broken up into 4 quatrains (or 4-line stanzas).
2. Each line is comprised of eight syllables.
3. The first line is the refrain. In the second stanza, the refrain appears in the second line; in the third stanza, the third line; in the fourth stanza, the fourth (and final) line.
4. There are no rules for rhyming or iambics.

PSH April 20, 2025

I knew it was time to go.

I knew it was time to go.

I saw the writing on the wall.

I could see there would be a fall.

Things would soon come to a great blow.

Saw that soon there would be madness.

The country may not grow.

had to go before the sideshow.

I knew it was time to go.

Note I retired from government before Trump 1.0, Trump 2.0 is far worse in my opinion.

The Octavin Refrain is an invented form by Luke Prater.

This poetry writing prompt was submitted by Diane Barker:

Time to pull the plug. Write about knowing when to walk away, changing direction or coming to terms with a hard decision. It can be literal or figurative.

Trochaic tetrameter also acceptable. The latter yields a more propulsive rhythm, as opposed to iambs, which tend to lilt.

As the name suggests, the first line is a refrain, repeated as the last (some variation of refrain acceptable).

Rhyme-scheme options as follows –
option 1 – Abb ac aaba
option 2 – Abb aca ba
option 3 – (A bbba cab A)
option 4 – (Abb aca ba Abb aca ba) (high octane)
April 21

Time to pull the plug. Write about knowing when to walk away, changing direction or coming to terms with a hard decision. It can be literal or figurative.

Dew Drop Inn

April 20—Easter eggs (hide something delightful in your poem!)

On Easter Sunday

Kids everywhere

Hunt for eastern eggs

After coloring them

And hiding them

In the garden

Where they delight

In finding the delightful

Little chocolate-covered

Boiled eggs.

Day Twenty-One

NaPoWriMo

The meeting was quite normal

Meeting Was Normal

But It Was Not Really

The DOGE Team Attacks

Everything Quite Silly

Soon No More Govbots!

End Poem

Ricciardone. Irish quatrain form with 5 syllables in first line, 6 in the others.

• Quatrain (or four-line stanza) form
• Five syllables in the first line; six syllables in the other three lines
• Each line ends with a two-syllable word
• Lines two and four rhyme
• All end words consonate

Comments:

“Govbot” is a pejorative term quite popular on the right, dating back to the Clinton era, to refer to government workers who are seen as slow-witted drones who could not make it in the free market, which is why they were “govbots” (short for government robots).

The DOGE stands for Department of Government Efficiency, which the President tasked to root out fraud, waste, and abuse and cut the Federal government’s budget and staff by 50 percent in the process, shutting down agencies, moving many out of DC, etc. The team led by Elon Musk lacks any clear mandate but has acted quickly, causing lots of turmoil, anguish, and litigation by Govbots and others who are opposed to their attempt to slash and burn the government, or to quote Elon Musk, “ take a chainsaw to the Federal government.”  This is not just my biased opinion, it is shared widely in the US, where there are massive protests daily against the destruction of the Federal Government, the ending of DEI programs, the shredding of civil liberties, and mass deportations without due process. End my editorial opinion, sorry for the rant.

End comments

Happy Monday, all, and a very happy twenty-first day of Na/GloPoWriMo.

Today, our featured participant is ray, whose Roethke-inspired poem for Day Twenty has an irresistible and friendly rhythm.

Our daily resource is the Shanghai Museum, where you will find everything from a carved hairpin featuring two mustachioed fellows, to a hot-pink Taoist master, to a calligraphic ode to wine.1

And now here’s our daily (optional) prompt. Sawako Nakayas u’s poem “Improvisational Score” is a rather surreal prose poem describing an imaginary musical piece that proceeds in a very unmusical way. Today, try your hand at writing your own poem in which something that normally unfolds in a set and well understood way  — like a baseball game or dance recital – goes haywire, but is described as if it is all very normal.

Sawako Nakayas

This performance may take place over any duration of time, from zero seconds to many years.

A number of insects are placed in a clear container so that they are as comfortable as possible, given the circumstances. They are given oxygen and food and water, though they may not escape. The container of insects is placed on stage and a light is directed through the container and projected onto a large screen so that the audience may see the insects.

Each musician chooses an insect and plays accordingly.

If two insects begin fighting, the corresponding musicians should also fight, musically or literally.

If an insect dies, the corresponding musician should also die, musically or literally.

“Improvisational Score” from The Ants (Les Figures Press, 2014). Reprinted with the permission of the author. All rights reserved.

Very John Cagian!  One of his more infamous pieces was a piano piece 4′33″ (1952) where the pianist mocked playing the piano silently for seven minutes, the music was the audience’s reaction.

For those who don’t know about John Cage, here is a Co-Pilot Bio and a bio for Sawka Nakayas as well.

John Cage

John Cage (1912–1992) was an American avant-garde composer and music theorist known for his pioneering work in indeterminacy, electroacoustic music, and non-standard use of musical instruments. His influence on 20th-century music was profound, challenging traditional notions of composition and performance. Cage was deeply inspired by Zen Buddhism and Eastern philosophies, which led him to embrace chance operations in his compositions.

Notable Works

• 4′33″ (1952) – A silent composition where the ambient sounds of the environment become the music.
• Sonatas and Interludes (1946–48) – A cycle of pieces for prepared piano.
• Music of Changes (1951) – A work composed using the I Ching.
• Concert for Piano and Orchestra (1957–58) – A highly indeterminate composition.
• Oratorio (1979) – A piece inspired by James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake.

john cage piano music

Sawako Nakayas

Sawako Nakayas is a Japanese-American poet, translator, and performer whose work explores language, performance, and translation. She has lived in Japan, the U.S., France, and China, and her poetry often engages with transnational themes.

Notable Works

• Pink Waves (2022)
• Some Girls Walk Into the Country They Are From (2020)
• Hurry Home Honey (2009)
• Texture Notes (2010)
• The Ants (2014)
• Mouth: Eats Color – A multilingual work blending original and translated poetry.

Nakayas has also translated works by Japanese poets such as Chika Sagawa and Tatsumi Hijikata, contributing significantly to cross-cultural literary exchange.

 

2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 21

The Day Of My Jogging Accident

Begin Poem

 

That morning I went for a run.

Fell down a path in the dark.

The run ended as a short run.

That fateful morning was pitch-dark.

14 operations – no fun!

 

end poem

 

prompt

 

We’re now three weeks deep in this challenge; way to bring it. Let’s finish strong!

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “(blank) Day,” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “Opposite Day,” “Green Day,” “Earth Day,” “The Last Ever Day,” and/or “The Day Before Yesterday.” Even “Holiday” would work honestly.

 

Criteria

 

The Quintilla is a Spanish poetic form that, as you may have guessed from the name, uses five-line stanzas. Here are the guidelines:

• Five-line stanzas.
• Eight syllables per line.
• An ab rhyme scheme in which at least two lines use the “a” rhyme and at least two lines use the “b” rhyme…
• But the stanza cannot end with a rhyming couplet.

 

Based on a true jogging accident, in 1996 I fell down a ladder in the dark, endured 14 operations over nine months, almost lost my leg and life as I developed an MDR staph infection that almost killed me.  Fortunately, since was wife was a military officer and I worked for the State Department, I was covered under military health care, they took good care of me while the State Department was not at all sympathetic, and I did not have to battle insurance companies.

PSH April 21, 2025

Burma Shave Signs from the Past

For many years

From the 1920s to the early 70s

 

Burma Shave

It was shaving cream

Company

 

Sadly, it went out

Business

Decades ago

 

The Burma Shave

Advertisements

 

Often humorous

Or a traffic safety message

Burma Shave signs

 

Were a feature

Of the American rural landscape

 

The classic Burma Shave sign

It was a cowboy poetry

rhyming poem

 

ending with a tag line

“Burma Shave”

 

The modern interstate highway system

Banned them

As too distracting

To motorists

 

Perhaps they were

But they were still

 

An interesting bit

Of American poetic wit

And wisdom

 

Just a few

I remember

 

From road trips

 

In the late 60s

Before they faded away

Into American history

 

“Pricky Pears

Prickly pears

Are picked

For pickles

No peach picks

A face that prickles

Burma Shave”

 

“Substitutes

Substitutes

Resemble

Tail-chasing pup

Follow and follow

But never catch up

Burma Shave”

 

Co-Pilot provided background info

The Burma-Shave ads were a clever and iconic advertising campaign for a brushless shaving cream introduced in 1925 by the Burma-Vita company. These ads became a staple of American highways from 1926 to 1963. The campaign featured a series of small, sequential roadside signs, each displaying a line of a humorous or rhyming poem, with the final sign always bearing the brand name, “Burma-Shave.” The signs were designed to entertain drivers and passengers during long road trips, making them a beloved part of the driving experience.

The campaign’s popularity peaked in the 1930s and 1940s, with over 7,000 sets of signs across the United States. However, the rise of the Interstate Highway System and faster vehicle speeds in the late 1950s made the signs less effective, leading to their discontinuation in 1963.

note: you could still find them on backwater highways until the mid  70’s, they are all long gone now.

Prompt

 

THINGS YOU’D NEVER HEAR
–in a weather report
–over the announcement system at an airport
–as a public service announcement
–in a sermon

THINGS YOU’D NEVER READ
–in a romance novel
–in a science fiction book
–as a pamphlet in a doctor’s office
–on a get-well card

THINGS/PEOPLE YOU’D NEVER SEE
–at a yard sale
–on a sign at a protest rally
–on a menu
–on the FBI’s “Most Wanted” list
*************************************************************************
Example–from Joe Kelty’s Poem: ROAD SIGNS WE NEVER SEE

NO TURN ON BLUE
SPEED LIMIT 46.24 MPH
PASS WITH ABANDON
WRONG RIGHT-OF-WAY
GO FOR IT
NEXT REST AREA 900 MILES. HOLD ON.
CRISSCROSS CENTER LINE
ROAD SLIPPERY WHEN PRESENT
FLOOR IT HERE TO CORNER
NOSEDIVE, 1 MILE
TAILGATING ZONE
MERGE OR BE SORRY
CAUTION: THREE-WAY TRAFFIC . . .

 

Dew Drop Inn

April 21—A country not your own

First Visit to Korea

In 1979
I first went to Korea
In those Peace Corps

After a long plane ride
My first international flight
I ended up in South Korea

At the old Gimpo airport
A chaotic crazy drive
Through Seoul

To the town of Chuncheon
Where we did our training course
For four months

First visit to another land
First foreign travel
To a strange land

Exotic people
Strange sounds and sights
And the smells of incense
And the food ah the food

But over time
Became my second home
45 years later

I returned to Korea
Ending up living
Next door to Gimpo airport
Where my journey began
45 years ago

 

Day Twenty-Two

NaPoWriMo

 Playing Mozart Sonatas at age 69

On Playing Mozart Piano Sonata

 

I have resumed

Daily  playing

Piano playing

.

At the age of 69

I have started

Playing the piano

 

I had delusions

I could have made

A career in music

 

Flunked out

Of the music conservatory

Cured me of that delusion

 

Playing for my amusement

Over the years

 

I decided to try again

About two years ago

 

Playing an hour a day

Most days

Except when

I am traveling

 

Finally getting the chops

To handle more advanced

Piano pieces

 

Working my way

Up to playing

 

Bach,  Beethoven,

Hayden and Mozart

 

Even blues classics

And Ellington songs!

and 100 top songs of all time!

 

just completed playing

All of the Mozart Sonatas

Next Up Beethoven!

 

Welcome back, everyone, for the twenty-second day of National/Global Poetry Writing Month.

Our featured participant today is Cutting Hail, who brings us not just one poem in response to Day 21’s “instructional” prompt, but three!

Today’s daily resource is the Uffizi Gallery, in Florence, Italy. If you are at all interested in Renaissance Italian masters, it’s the right place to get an eyeful of Titians, Caravaggio, Botticelli’s, Canaletto, and da Vincis.

And now for today’s optional prompt! Did you take music lessons as a child? Despite having all the musical talent of a dried-out lemon, I took two years of piano lessons. I was required to practice for half an hour a day and showed my disgruntlement by playing certain very annoying songs – like Turkey in the Straw – over and over, as loudly as possible. But while

I thought of the lessons as a kind of torture, I’m glad as an adult to have taken them – if only for the greater dexterity it gave to my hands!

In her poem, Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons, Diane Wakoski’s is far more grateful than I ever managed to be, describing the act of playing as a “relief” from loneliness and worry, and as enlarging her life with something beautiful. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something you’ve done – whether it’s music lessons, or playing soccer, crocheting, or fishing, or learning how to change a tire – that gave you a similar kind of satisfaction, and perhaps still does.

 

2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 22

Please Tell Us The People The Truth Soledad

Please tell us the truth

Hey govbots, no more lies, no mas! *

We don’t need any more half-truth

 

*Spanish for no more  can be politically as here or simply we are out of something or stop doing something quite a flexible wording

 

Govbots pejorative term for government workers among the right, dating back to the Clinton era, meaning government workers who are mindless drones following rules and procedures

On the 22nd day of the 2025 April Poem-A-Day Challenge, writers are challenged with the fourth Two-for-Tuesday prompt of the month.

It’s time for the fourth (but not final) Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

• Write a poem and/or…
• Write a don’t tell me poem.

You get to decide what that means; you might even tell me in your poem.

Criteria

Soledad. Spanish tercet form.

The Soledad is a Spanish poetic form. It has the following guidelines:

• Three-line poem (or stanzas).
• Eight-syllable lines.
• Rhyme scheme: aba.
• Internal consonance and assonance.

 

PSH April 22, 2025

Reprograming My Mind

It is so easy

Watching the news

And following social media

To become outraged

Enraged and depressed

 

That is what they want

From us

 

Keeping us

From seeing

The beauty

 

The joy

And even happiness

That is still around us

 

Whenever I get too depressed

With constant doom-scrolling

 

I stop and think about

 

All the good things

In my life

 

And especially

How I met and married

The lady of my dreams

 

And day-to-day

Noise of the

perpetual outrage machine

 

The media has become

Fades away

 

Replaced by a sense

Of joy and yes

Even happiness

 

Which no one

can take away

From us

 

Reprogram your mind

Get rid of negativity

 

And concentrate

On the positive

And the things

 

You can do

To make this

A better world

 

So go forth

And find

Your inner joy

And happiness

 

Whatever form

That may take

 

Prompt provided, but I am skipping this one – too much of a headache to wrap my  tired 69-year old brain around!  Instead, I decided to write something positive for a welcome change to my otherwise gloomy poems

 

Dew Drop Inn

April 22—Earth Day

Earth Day

I sometimes wonder

What future generations

Will we think of our generation?

 

We all know

That this world of ours

It is a fragile place,

 

And we all know

That climate change

Is real,

 

Exacerbated by

The relentless terraforming

Of the planet,

 

To accommodate

billions of people.

 

But I also think

that humanity

will eventually

 

be forced to change

to save the planet

for future generations.

 

And we will end up

settling up colonies

on the Moon, Mars

 

and the Moons of Jupiter

and Saturn

perhaps beyond.

 

probably long after

I am gone

But perhaps not

If I live another 30 years!

 

I would love

to walk on the moon

Or on Mars

 

With my love by my side

Before I go to my next life,

The ultimate bucket travel item.

 

Day Twenty-Three

NaPoWriMo

Mockingbirds

While walking

Deep in the woods
In Youngchong Island

High above Sky City
near the Incheon airport
In South Korea.

I heard them
then saw them

Hideous black

Korean magpie

Krachi  mocking birds.

Looking at me
Cackling at me
Laughing at me
Mocking me.

Calling me names

I asked

“Say birds,

What do you

Want from me?”

They laughed,

 

“Nothing

But your doom
human!”

And they flew

Around me
dive bombing me.

surrounding me
calling me names.

In Korean,

And English.

As I fled

The trail
With the demon birds
hot on my trail.

Note:

Korean magpies, sometimes called mockingbirds, are common in more rural areas, and they do often laugh as people walk by. Very eerie sound, and the birds are quite big. The above is based on a nightmare I had after a real encounter on a trail back in 2018, pre-COVID era, when I was living near the airport and often took long walks through the nearby hills.

Co-pilot background on Korean mockingbirds

Mockingbirds are not native to Korea, so there isn’t a specific Korean name for them. However, Korea is home to a rich variety of bird species, some of which mimic sounds like mockingbirds do. For example, the Eurasian magpie, known as “까치” (kka chí) in Korean, is a common bird that is admired for its intelligence and vocal abilities.

As for endangered species, South Korea has several bird species that are nationally protected due to their vulnerable status. You can find detailed lists of these species on resources like the Ministry of Environment’s website or the Birds Korea Checklist.

Happy Wednesday, everyone, and happy twenty-third day of National/Global Poetry Writing Month.

Today, our featured participant is Elizabeth Bouquet, who brings us a poem with a poem in it in response to Day Twenty-Two’s lessons-based prompt.

Our resource for the day is the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The museum’s online image collection is practically endless, and to call it varied would be an understatement. There’s over 2,000 images just of baseball cards! To say nothing of candelabra featuring what appears to be a scandalized swan, a processional sword belonging to the guardsman of a sixteenth-century German duke, and a couch that I would very much like to fall upon in a melodramatic swoon.

And last but not least, here’s today’s (optional) prompt. Humans might be the only species to compose music, but we’re quite famously not the only ones to make it. Birdsong is all around us – even in cities, there are sparrows chirping, starlings making a racket. And it’s hardly surprising that birdsong has inspired poets. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem that focuses on birdsong. Need examples? Try A.E. Stallings’ “Blackbird Etude,” or for an old-school throwback, Shelley’s “To a Skylark.”

2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 23

Too Many Books

Have too many
Books
For me to read
Friends
I need to start decluttering
I own too many books and CDs to keep
My books
It is hard to say goodbye
To my friends
Love reading my old classics
So much I’ve learned from all my classic books
Each one, a friend through long years of my life
I’ll miss them

 

I can’t believe how fast we’re breezing through this month. One week of poeming after today!

 

For today’s prompt, write a poem book. Today is World Book Day, which may be one of my favorite holidays moving forward, because I love books. Your poem could be inspired by a book, an author, a character, a scene, and/or however you’d like to come to this one. Heck, write about a bookstore, library, card catalogue, or any other bookish thing you can imagine.

Criteria

 

You know Pi as the sixteenth letter of the Greek alphabet. But Pi is also used as poetry form. I discovered a small explanation on the page of Jan Haag, who has written several poems in Pi form.

The Pi is built up in words and follows the mathematical number that stands for Pi:
PI = 3.141592653589793

In lines:

Pi Form

 

line 1: 3 words
line 2: 1 word
line 3: 4 words
line 4: 1 word
line 5: 5 words
line 6: 9 words
line 7: 2 words
line 8: 6 words
line 9: 5 words
line 10: 3 words
line 11: 5 words
line 12: 8 words
line 13: 9 words
line 14: 7 words
line 15: 9 words
line 16: 3 words.

 

Bonus Poem

 

Hard to Say Goodbye to Books

 

 

A lonely old man

In the stillness

Of a quiet room

Look at his books

Knowing he has to move

Alone now, he needs to declutter his life

But it is hard to say goodbye

To his old friends.

 

 

Dew Drop Inn

April 23—Shakespeare

Seeing  Shakespeare plays

My best friend

From first grade

Became an actor.

 

Ended up doing

Mostly Shakespearean dramas

A few minor movie and TV roles

And commercials

 

But he was typecast

As a Shakespeare guy

And he was fine

With that.

 

One of the lucky one percent

Of actors who made a living

Doing only acting.

 

And now he is mostly retired

Actor

Being A Shakespearian actor

It is hard work physically

And mentally.

 

Just too hard to keep going

As we get near and past 70.

 

Through him

I became a Shakespeare fan

I have, over the years

Read all of the plays.

 

And seen most of the plays

Live, on TV, and in movies

 

And in Oregon

We go to Ashland

The Shakespeare Festival

Once a year.

 

My favorites

are historical dramas,

 

“Julius Caesar” is my all-time favorite

Followed by “Romeo and Juliet”

“Macbeth,” and “Hamlet”

“As You Like It,” and

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

 

I prefer the classical versions

I do not like most modern interpretations

Particularly when they try to modernize

The  language

 

But I think that is a losing battle,

Eventually Shakespearian English

Will become too hard

To follow for most folks.

 

 

Day Twenty- Four

NaPoWrMo

Sam Jones Why I get the Blues

Jake Jones

Was a blues singer

From way back

In his high school days

He became known

As the white boy blues man

From the streets of Oakland

California

He had his own band

Jake and the Jump Backs

They played the classic standard

Blues

 

Jake had a growling

Howling wolf style voice

And played a mean guitar

And the stride piano and keyboards

 

BB King heard of him

And invited him on a tour

With him

 

Jake and the Jump Backs

Opened for all legendary

Blues men of the 70s and 80s

 

And toured with the funk bands

Including

Tower of Power

Parliament

Earth Wind and Fire

And Wild Cherry

 

Their cover of

“ Play that Funky Music, White Boy”

became almost

As famous as the original song

 

Lyrics to Play that Funky Music White Boy

 

https://genius.comAWild-cherry

Play That Funky Music

Song by

Wild Cherry

Hey, do it now, huh
Yeah, hey

Hey, once I was a boogie singer
Playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band
I never had any problems, yeah
Burning down the one-night stands
Then everything around me, yeah
It got to start feeling so low
And I decided quickly, yes, I did, heh
To disco down and check out the show

Yeah, they were dancing and singing
And moving to the grooving
And just when it hit me
Somebody turned around and shouted…

“Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music right
Play that funky music, white boy
Lay down the boogie and play that funky music ’til you die” (heh, heh)
‘Til you die, yeah, uh
Here, here, ha

Well, I tried to understand this (yeah)
Heh, I thought that they were out of their minds
How could I be so foolish? How could I?
To not see I was the one behind?
So still I kept on fighting
Well, losing every step of the way (hey, what’d you do?)
I said, “I must go back there,” I got to go back
And check to see if things still the same

Yeah, they were dancing and singing
And moving to the grooving
And just when it hit me
Somebody turned around and shouted…

“Play that funky music, white boy (yeah)
Play that funky music right, oh
Play that funky music, white boy
Lay down the boogie and play that funky music ’til you die” (heh)
‘Til you die (yeah)
Oh, ’til you die
Gonna play some electrified funky music, yow

Ah, ha, ha

Hey, wait a minute, now first it wasn’t easy
Changing rock ‘n’ roll and minds
Yeah, things were getting shaky (yeah)
I thought I’d have to leave it behind, uh
Ooh, but now it’s so much better, it’s so much better
I’m funking out in every way
But I’ll never lose that feeling, no, I won’t
Of how I learned my lesson that day

When they were dancing and singing
And moving to the grooving
And just when it hit me
Somebody turned around and shouted

“Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music right
Play that funky music, white boy
Lay down the boogie and play that funky music ’til you die” (heh)
‘Til you die (yeah)
Oh, ’til you die, yeah
Come on, let’s go!

(They shouted, “play that funky music”) play that funky music
(Play that funky music) you gotta keep on playing funky music
(Play that funky music) play that funky music
(Play that funky music) come on and take you higher

Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music right, yeah
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music right, yeah

Play that funky music (white boy)
Play that funky music (right, yeah)
Play that funky music (honky)
Play that funky music (right, ha)
Play that funky…

Songwriters: Robert W. Parisi. For non-commercial use only.

Welcome back, everyone, to Day Twenty-Four of our annual poetry-writing challenge!

Our featured participant for the day is haphazard, whose birdsong poem for Day Twenty-Three places primacy on the “gaps in the music.”

Today’s daily resource is the Art Institute of Chicago, where just searching the collection for the word “stars,” I found this amazing quilt, a very fancy-looking Soviet plate, and an illustration of the constellation Leo from a medieval Arabic astronomical guide.

And now for today’s (optional) prompt. One fundamental aspect of music is its communal nature. While a single person can make music, of course, it’s often made in groups. Rock bands, orchestras, church choirs – they all involve making music together. And often, we’re playing or performing music that was written by, or inspired by, other people.

In her poem, Duet, Lisa Russ Spaar tells the story of two sisters making music together, based on two pre-existing songs by different artists. Today, we challenge you to write a poem that involves people making music together, and that references – with a lyric or line – a song or poem that is important to you.

 

PSH April 23, 2025   Poetry Writing Prompt from Franci Levine-Grater

Looking at my house filled with memories Kimo Poem

Looking at my house filled with memories

I have many books to read

There are still many more things to do

 

This poetry writing prompt submitted by Franci Levine-Grater:

Look at an item, or a picture of an item, which is important or sentimental to you and write about memories and feelings it elicits. Do NOT describe the item. Rather, use it as an inspiration to access why it is sentimental to you.

• 3 lines
• No rhymes.
• 10 syllables in the first line, 7 in the second, and 6 in the third.

Also, the kimo is focused on a single frozen image (kind of like a snapshot). So it’s uncommon to have any movement happening in kimo poems.

 

Dew Drop Inn

 

April 23—Shakespeare

Seeing  Shakespeare plays

 

My best friend

From first grade

Became an actor.

 

Ended up doing

Mostly Shakespearean dramas

A few minor movie and TV roles

And commercials

 

But he was typecast

As a Shakespeare guy

And he was fine

With that.

 

One of the lucky one percent

Of actors who made a living

Doing only acting.

 

And now he is mostly retired

Actor

Being A Shakespearian actor

It is hard work physically

And mentally.

 

Just too hard to keep going

As we get near and past 70.

 

Through him

I became a Shakespeare fan

I have, over the years

Read all of the plays.

 

And seen most of the plays

Live, on TV, and in movies

 

And in Oregon

We go to Ashland

The Shakespeare Festival

Once a year.

 

My favorites

are historical dramas,

 

“Julius Caesar” is my all-time favorite

Followed by “Romeo and Juliet”

“Macbeth,” and “Hamlet”

“As You Like It,” and

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

 

I prefer the classical versions

I do not like most modern interpretations

Particularly when they try to modernize

The langauge.

 

But I think that is a losing battle,

Eventually Shakespearian English

Will become too hard

To follow for most folks.

 

Day Twenty- Four

 

NaPoWriMo

Frank Zappa Died too Soon

 

Attending two Frank Zappa concerts

We were among the best concerts

I ever attended

 

I was a huge fan of Frank Zappa

 

Loved his work

Everything he wrote

 

He was my musical hero

Sadly, he died way too soon

I often wonder

 

What he would have thought

Of Trump one and Trump two

Presidencies?

 

No doubt he would have

Had a lot to say

 

Perhaps he would have been

The light of the rebellion

Against Trumpian madness?

 

Happy final Friday of Na/GloPoWriMo, all.

With apologies for the delay (I’m traveling, and just plain fell asleep last night before updating today’s post!), today’s featured participant is Wren Jones, who brings us a flashback to Springsteen in response to Day Twenty-Four’s making-music-together prompt.

Our daily resource is the online galleries of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya, one of India’s foremost museums.

 

It’s a pleasure to browse through the images here. I particularly liked these anklets that aren’t just jewelry but a sort of personal piggy bank, this portrait of the fabulously mustachioed J.M. Curette, and this highly decorative flask, originally meant to hold gunpowder!

 

Finally, here is our optional prompt for the day. In her poem, Senzo, Evie Shockley recounts the experience of being at a live concert, relating it the act of writing poetry. Today we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts an experience of your own hearing live music and tells how it moves you. It could be a Rolling Stones concert, your little sister’s middle school musical, or just someone whistling – it just needs to be something meaningful to you.

 

2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 24

O Dark Hundred Nightmares

 

Midnight

Insomnia takes hold of me

nightmares terrifying me

0 dark hundred

late nights

 

What if

What if nightmares take over

Replaying in my mind

What if what if

what if

 

Worries

Going down dark, twisted rabbit holes

Natural disasters

Fear of my death

The end

 

Comment:

 

Note: O Dark hundred hours is a military/intel slang phrase that refers to the hours just before dawn between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m., depending on location and time of year. This is when bad things happen in the night, as military and intel special forces wake up for a dawn operation. Here and in other similar poems and short stories, it refers to when people most often have nightmares around 3 a.m. in the middle of the night, or O Dark hundred.

Bonus Poem

O dark hundred insomnia blues

Sam Adams had the insomnia blues
he could not sleep.

He stared at the ceiling.
That stared back at him
With an evil grin
Mocking him it seems.

His mind plays an endless tape
of fears doom, and endless fears
As he goes down the proverbial rabbit hole
Lost in an endless anxiety feedback freak out loop.

The latest dark SF series he saw
the latest scary news
Political dystopian futures
Endless possibilities play out.

The latest news of war
the latest fears of incipient fascism
The latest news about the stock market
climate change weather disasters
Monster storms and flooding
His town burning up around him.

What if I have the big Alzheimer’s, or dementia?
What if I have Cancer, Covid, Lyme disease, or Monkeypox?
What if World War Three breaks out?

4:30 a.m.

What if I am at the mall
When a mad gunman opens fire?
Or a terrorist bomb goes off?
Or I am the victim of a random act of violence?

5:15 a.m.

What if the zombie apocalypse starts?
What if, what if, what if……

6:30 a.m.

Until day-break blasts him awake
as the dawning sun fills the room.
Ending that night’s insomnia blues.
Until the next night’s episode begins
at O Dark Hundred.

Prompt

 

For today’s prompt, write a time of day poem. You can pick a specific time of day (like the songs “3 A.M. Eternal,” by The KLF, or “12:51,” by The Strokes), or it can be a more generalized thing (like “early morning” or “lunch time” or whatever). Snack time is one of my favorite times of day, for sure. (And don’t forget poeming time!)

 

Criteria

 

This poetry form is not a difficult one. The form finds its origin in Spain. Not much is known about the history of the form, so we’ll stick to the details.

How is the Cinquain set up?

xx
xxxxxxxx
xxxxxx
xxxx
xx

(2/8/6/4/2 syllables.)

If you center the poem, the shape looks like a top, quite cute

Poetry info: http://www.angelfire.com/art/formsofpoetry/agamemmnon s.sanctuary.spanishfor…

http://home.planet.nl/~boons468/Poetry_Forms.html
Some of my art:
http://home.planet.nl/~boons468/Bianca.ht

PSH Cut-up Remixed consular officers have the best stories

Bob Jones chief

 

Mumbai

9-11

oversee

immigrant visas,

adjudicator

fraud unit

 

“administrative processing”

Had best stories,

 

“So, what can we do for you?”
————————————————————————————————————
“ Yes, my father is dying

 

He said to her,

“Do you have any proof

 

And she said yes,

———————————–

that letter

It was fraudulent.

————————————————————————————————–

Mr Patel had died

about two weeks before.

“So, Miss Patel

when was the last time

you spoke to your father?”

————————————————————————————————– “Oh, I spoke to him just now

he is still alive

“OK well,

there’s just one problem.

 

Do you believe in ghosts?”

” What?”
——————————————————————————————-
“Well, you see here’s the problem.

There’s only one way you

could have spoken

to your father today

————————————————————————————————–and that is if you spoke

to a ghost

he died two weeks ago”.

 

Another day

in the life of a visa officer

—————————————————————————————————

doing his part

to enforce  broken  system.
Just another  bad government gig

 

The immigration system has been broken for decades and is riddled with fraud, but most immigrants are decent, hardworking people. I disagree with the mass deportation campaign and the practice of sweeping people off the streets. Instead, they should have fixed the system, which would need to include a path to legalization for those who are otherwise law-abiding, long-term residents. It is far better for everyone if they have legal status rather than living in the shadows. I also believe we must make it easier for legal immigration and give priority to those who study in the U.S. and are poised to become the next innovators here. The current policy is shortsighted, cruel, and counterproductive.

Experiment with Cross-Outs and Cut-ups Using Old Drafts of Poetry as Raw Material!

This prompt invites you to rework forgotten/abandoned drafts by both/either redacting/covering up selected words (cross-outs) and cutting lines out of hard copies and re-ordering them on a piece of paper, gluing them down when you are satisfied (cut-ups). Magazines are also good raw material for cross-out and cut-up poetry and found poems. Either using intuition, or complete random selection. The point is not to overthink it. You’ll need scissors and glue or tape and some blank paper and a marking pen.

Lewis Carroll answered the question of “How do I be a poet?” in 1883:

“For first you write a sentence,
And then you chop it small;
Then mix the bits, and sort them out
Just as they chance to fall:
The order of the phrases makes
No difference at all.”

Tristan Tzara, in the 1920s, proposed to create a poem on the spot by pulling words out of a hat. In the 1950s Brion Gysin cut newspaper articles into sections and rearranged the sections at random. William Burroughs asserts. “Cuts ups are for everyone,” just as Tzara remarked that “poetry is for everyone.”

April 24—Duty

visa fraud stories

Bob Jones was an immigrant visa chief

for the United States of America

consular officers have the best stories,

and cases that will always be remembered.

———————————————————————————————————————–

On that November day,

an Indian American citizen

came to the consulate to see him.

———————————————————————————————————————–She had a request.

would he be willing to consider

her Sibling’s cases.

 

Her father had immigrated

to the United States

and become a citizen.

 

And she had become

a citizen as well.

 

She had four siblings

who were in their 30s

all of whom were living in India

and all of those visas

————————————————————————————————

were held up for “administrative processing”

on suspicion of marriage fraud,

or rather fake single status,

which was the biggest category

of visa fraud.

 

Her father had petitioned

for them and

as unmarried children of U.S. citizens,

 

the wait was

about three years,

whereas for married children of U.S. citizens,

the wait would be about seven years.

 

In this case,

he suspected

that they were committing

marriage fraud

by pretending

to be unmarried

and the case

had been held up

 

They knew culturally speaking

that rural Gujarati women

and men in their 30s

would all be married

 

and that they were faking

being single on paper

to speed up visa processing.

 

Once they were Green card holders

They would marry their spouses

 

So in five years

They would all be together

Instead of ten years

 

He understood

and even felt sympathetic

but the law was the law

 

-and he had to

enforce the visa law

even the insane rules.

– He asked her,

“So, what can we do for you?”
————————————————————————————————–
“ Yes, my father is dying

in the hospital

—————————————————————————————-

and it is his dying wish

to reunite the family

in the United States

 

could you please

reconsider issuing

the visas to them?”

He said to her,
————————————————————————————————
“Do you have any proof

that your father

is in the hospital?”

————————————————————————————————–
And she said yes,

and she pulled out

a letter written

by an Indian doctor

in New Jersey

 

saying that Mister Patel

was seriously ill

and that it

was his dying wish

 

to have his children

reunited in the United States,

and see him before he died.

 

and that the consulate

should reconsider

issuing visas

for the children.

 

There was something

about that letter

that struck him as fraudulent.

 

and so he called the hospital

and he confirmed

with the duty doctor

 

that Mr. Patel

had died

about two weeks before.

————————————————————————————————–
He called Miss Patel

and gave her the bad news.

 

He started by saying.

“So, Miss Patel

when was the last time

you spoke to your father?”

 

“Oh, I spoke to him just now

he is still alive and waiting

for his children to arrive

to see him before he dies.”

 

“He is alive right now?”

Oh, yes, he is still alive

and he’s waiting

for the immigrant visas

to be processed.”

 

“OK well, there’s just one problem.

Do you believe in ghosts?”

” What?”
——————————————————————————————-
“Well, you see here’s the problem.

 

There’s only one way you

could have spoken

to your father today

and that is if you spoke

 

to a ghost because

according to the hospital,

he died two weeks ago”.

 

And he showed

her fax from the hospital

confirming Mr. Patel’s demise.
————————————————————————————————–She started crying.

Then he said.

“Well, you know the problem

is that you and your siblings

just committed visa fraud.

 

They are going to be stuck

in India and not allowed to travel

to the United States

for the next 99 years.

 

But planes fly both ways

and you can go visit them

every year if you want

but they’re not coming

into the United States.

 

And you can file for them

And in eight years seek

A visa waiver for the ineligibility

It is sometimes granted.”

 

– She cried

and he entered them

in the system for visa

misrepresentation.

 

This one was

but one of the many

heart-breaking stories

illustrating

how broken the US immigration system was.

 

In this particular case,

if the father was still alive,

he might have

reconsidered the case

 

and issued the visas

for humanitarian reasons

ignoring marriage fraud,

which was always difficult to prove,

 

but when the father

died the petition died with him.

He said to himself

well that’s just another day

in the life of a visa officer

————————————————————————————————–

doing his part

to enforce

a broken immigration system.

 

But, thinking back on it all,

he felt blessed to be working

serving the country he loved

 

-and helping immigrants,

students and visitors

visit America

while deterring fraudsters,

 

and helping American citizens

who found themselves

in trouble in a foreign land.

 

Not bad for a government gig

He always said.

 

The immigration system has been broken for decades and is riddled with fraud, but most immigrants are decent, hardworking people. I disagree with the mass deportation campaign and the practice of sweeping people off the streets. Instead, they should have fixed the system, which would need to include a path to legalization for those who are otherwise law-abiding, long-term residents. It is far better for everyone if they have legal status rather than living in the shadows. I also believe we must make it easier for legal immigration and give priority to those who study in the U.S. and are poised to become the next innovators here. The current policy is shortsighted, cruel, and counterproductive.

 

Day Twenty-Five

NaPoWriMo

Frank Zappa Died too Soon

frank zappa

Attending two Frank Zappa concerts

We were among the best concerts

I ever attended

 

I was a huge fan of Frank Zappa

 

Loved his work

Everything he wrote

 

He was my musical hero

Sadly, he died way too soon

I often wonder

 

What he would have thought

Of Trump one and Trump two

Presidencies?

 

No doubt he would have

Had a lot to say

 

Perhaps he would have been

The light of the rebellion

Against Trumpian madness?

Happy final Friday of Na/GloPoWriMo, all.

With apologies for the delay (I’m traveling, and just plain fell asleep last night before updating today’s post!), today’s featured participant is Wren Jones, who brings us a flashback to Springsteen in response to Day Twenty-Four’s making-music-together prompt.

Our daily resource is the online galleries of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya, one of India’s foremost museums.

It’s a pleasure to browse through the images here. I particularly liked these anklets that aren’t just jewelry but a sort of personal piggy bank, this portrait of the fabulously mustachioed J.M. Curette, and this highly decorative flask, originally meant to hold gunpowder!

Finally, here is our optional prompt for the day. In her poem, Senzo, Evie Shockley recounts the experience of being at a live concert, relating it the act of writing poetry. Today we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts an experience of your own hearing live music and tells how it moves you. It could be a Rolling Stones concert, your little sister’s middle school musical, or just someone whistling – it just needs to be something meaningful to you.

 

2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 25

April 25 I shall always remember

One night in early September

A night I will always remember

For on  that date, my dream lady came to life

 

It was on that September date

I knew that I had met my fate

When I saw her, sparks flew from heart to heart

 

Tripadi Poems

The Tripadi is a Bengali poetic form. Here are the guidelines:

• Tercets (or three-line stanzas).
• Lines one and two end rhyme with each other.
• Lines one and two have eight syllables.
• Line three has ten syllables.
• Poem may consist of one tercet or several.

 

f you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.

 

PSH April 25, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Jason Morphew

The Sphinx Golden Shovel Poem

The ancient Sphinx

Feels drowsy,

She stretches her wings

And as they furled

She  has a heavy heart

Thinking about the world she broods

She tells poet Emerson her secret.

 

Words chosen

• wings
• furled
• heavy
• broods
• secret

Ralph Waldo Emerson

1803 – 1882

The Dream of the Spinx

The Sphinx is drowsy,

The wings are furling.

Her ear is heavy,

She broods on the world.

“Who’ll tell me my secret,

The ages have kept?–

I awaited the seer,

While they slumbered and slept;–

 

“The fate of the man-child.

The meaning of man.

Know fruit of the unknown.

Daedalian plan.

Out of sleeping a waking,

Out of waking a sleep.

Life death overtaking.

Deep underneath deep?

 

“Erect as a sunbeam,

Upspringeth the palm.

The elephant browses,

Undaunted and calm.

In beautiful motion

The thrush plies his wings.

Kind leaves of his covert,

Your silence he sings.

 

“The waves, unashamed,

In difference sweet,

Play glad about the breezes,

Old playfellows meet.

The journeying atoms,

Primordial holes,

Firmly draw, firmly drive,

By their animate poles.

 

“Sea, earth, air, sound, silence,

Plant, quadruped, bird,

By one music enchanted,

One deity stirred,–

Each the other adorning,

Accompany still.

Night veiled the morning,

The vapor the hill.

 

“The babe by its mother

Lies bathed in joy.

Glide its hours uncounted,–

The sun is its toy.

Shines the peace of all being,

Without cloud, in its eyes.

And the sum of the world

In soft miniature lies.

 

“But man crouches and blushes,

Absconds and conceals.

He creepeth and peepeth,

He platters and steals.

Infirm, melancholy,

Jealous glancing around,

An oaf, an accomplice,

He poisons the ground.

 

“Outspoke the great mother,

Beholding his fear;–

At the sound of her accents

Cold shuddered the sphere:–

‘Who has drugged my boy’s cup?

Who has mixed my boy’s bread?

Who, with sadness and madness,

Has turned the man-child’s head?’”

 

I heard a poet answer,

Aloud and cheerfully,

“Say on, sweet Sphinx! thy dirges

Are pleasant songs to me.

Deep love lieth under

These pictures of time.

They fad in the light of

Their meaning sublime.

 

“The fiend that man harries

It is love of the Best.

Yawns the pit of the Dragon,

Lit by rays from the Blest.

The Lethe of nature

Can’t trace him again,

Whose soul sees perfect,

Which his eyes seek in vain.

 

“Profounder, profounder,

Man’s spirit must dive.

To his aye-rolling orbit

No goal will arrive.

The heavens that now draw him

With sweetness untold,

Once found,–for new heavens

He spurned the old.

 

“Pride ruined the angels,

Their shame restores.

And the joy that is sweetest

Lurks in stings of remorse.

Have I been lover

Who is noble and free?–

I would he were nobler

Than to love me.

 

“Eterna alternation

Now follows, now flied.

And under pain, pleasure,–

Under pleasure, pain lies.

Love works at the centre,

Heart-heaving always.

Fourth speed the strong pulses

To the borders of day.

 

“Dull Sphinx, Jove keep thy five wits!

Thy sight is growing blear.

Rue, myrrh, and cummin for the Sphinx–

Her muddy eyes clear!”–

The old Sphinx bit her thick lip,–

Said, “Who taught me to name?

I am thy spirit, yoke-fellow,

Of thine eye I am eyebeam.

 

“Thou art the unanswered question.

Couldst see they proper eye,

Always it Saketh, Saketh.

And each answer is a lie.

So take thy quest through nature,

Through thousand natures ply.

Ask on, thou clothed eternity.

Time is the false reply.”

 

Uprose the merry Sphinx,

And crouched no more in stone.

She melted into purple cloud,

She silvered in the moon.

She sprinted into a yellow flame.

She flowered in blossoms red.

She flowed into a foaming wave.

She stood Monadnock’s head.

 

Through a thousand voices

Spoke the universal dame:

“Who telethon one of my meanings,

Is master of all I am.”

From Collected Poems & Translations by Ralph Waldo Emerson, published by Library of

The Dream of the Sphinx Emerson Inspired Golden Shovel Poem

 

Golden Shovel. Terrance Hayes-invented, Gwendolyn Brooks-inspired.

Here are the rules for the Golden Shovel:

• Take a line (or lines) from a poem you admire.
• Use each word in the line (or lines) as an end word in your poem.
• Keep the end words in order.
• Give credit to the poet who originally wrote the line (or lines).
• The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the poem that offers the end words.

If you pull a line with six words, your poem would be six lines long. If you pull a stanza with 24 words, your poem would be 24 lines long. And so on.

If it’s still kind of abstract, read these two poems to see how Terrance Hayes used a Gwendolyn Brooks poem to write the first golden shovel:

• We Real Cool, by Gwendolyn Brooks (original poem)
• The Golden Shovel, by Terrance Hayes (golden shovel poem)

As you can see, the original golden shovel takes more than a line from the poem. In fact, it pulls every word from the Brooks poem, and it does it twice.

This form is sort of in the tradition of the cento and erasure, but it offers a lot more room for creativity than other poetry found.

Skipped prompt too weird to wrap my head around

 

April 25—Care giving

 

Sam’s  mother

Died of Alzheimer’s

In 2007.

 

She spent the last three years

Of her life

In a nursing home.

In Napa City

 

About a hundred miles

From her home

In Berkeley

 

Her adult children had to move her

When it became obvious

She could no longer

Manage things on her own.

 

The saddest thing of all

Was that she lost the ability

To read ,

 

She had always been a huge reader

And loved discussing what she was reading

With Sam, her favorite son .

 

And he loved talking to her

About what he was reading

As well.

 

He last saw her

When she was

somewhat lucid

In 2002.

 

When he  joined his brothers

And sister

In helping  her move

To the nursing home.

 

It was one of the saddest days

Of her life

And of Sam’s.

 

But it had to be done

None of them could

take care of her.

 

as she needed full time care

and none of them

wanted to do so.

 

because their mother

 

was a difficult person

with a prickly personality.

 

So they shipped her off

To the nursing home.

 

The day she died

Sam was on his way

To the nursing home.

 

Had to beg the management

To delay shipping her remains

Until they could get there.

 

They reluctantly allowed them

The time to get there

And see her.

 

Sam went in and talked with her

Sam  sensed her spirit all around me

And I knew that she had held on

To life.

 

Until she could see

Her favorite son.

 

They buried her in El Cerrito

Down the street

From her home.

 

And every few years

Sam went to her grave

And communed

with her spirit.

 

sensing that her ghost

is near by

listening to him.

Comments for blog posting

Review For Poems for April 23 2025
Chapter 25 of the book April 2025 poetry madness

Excellent

Jake, your collection for April 23 offers a rich variety of tone and subject, and there is real pleasure in the movement between them.
The mocking birds piece is wild and vivid, capturing a surreal sense of menace with a playful edge-the birds cackling in Korean and English is a brilliant, slightly absurd detail.
Your piece on “reprogramming your mind” is a warm, important counterpoint: it reminds readers (and perhaps yourself) that joy still exists if we choose to seek it, without falling into preachiness.
The short memory about your house feels quiet and grounded, and the Shakespeare piece is a real highlight: personal, affectionate, and tinged with a sense of time passing.
Your affection for the classics shines through clearly.
If anything, the different pieces might feel a little loosely stitched when read together, but as a daily writing project, this kind of natural shift between moods feels entirely fitting.
A heartfelt and honest set.
Tim thanks as always

 

 

Review For Poems for April 23 2025
Chapter 25 of the book April 2025 poetry madness

Excellent

Jake, your collection for April 23 offers a rich variety of tone and subject, and there is real pleasure in the movement between them.
The mocking birds piece is wild and vivid, capturing a surreal sense of menace with a playful edge-the birds cackling in Korean and English is a brilliant, slightly absurd detail.
Your piece on “reprogramming your mind” is a warm, important counterpoint: it reminds readers (and perhaps yourself) that joy still exists if we choose to seek it, without falling into preachiness.
The short memory about your house feels quiet and grounded, and the Shakespeare piece is a real highlight: personal, affectionate, and tinged with a sense of time passing.
Your affection for the classics shines through clearly.
If anything, the different pieces might feel a little loosely stitched when read together, but as a daily writing project, this kind of natural shift between moods feels entirely fitting.
A heartfelt and honest set.
Tim thanks as always

 

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